


Lunchtime Bonding

by Mousetraps



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, also smut, dumb fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousetraps/pseuds/Mousetraps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha got in trouble and has to go without lunch as punishment, so Mikasa comes to cheer her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunchtime Bonding

Sometimes Sasha couldn’t help but think that maybe she wasn’t cut out for military training…but then, she wasn’t sure she was really cut out for _anything_ on an empty stomach. Having missed breakfast, the day’s training had been a nightmare, and dinner time was still quite a ways off – which wouldn’t have been such a problem now at lunch time, except Sasha still had three more days until she would be allowed her afternoon meals again, thanks to an incident in the kitchen earlier that week.

So while all the other trainees were enjoying themselves in the mess hall, Sasha had tried to find some relief by finding a nice, secluded spot in the shade. At least that way nobody would come tease her about food…but apparently she wasn’t as well hidden as she’d thought, because Mikasa was quick to find her.

“Just leave me here. I’m not gonna make it.” Sasha groaned dramatically, drawing her knees in close so she could slump her head down onto them.

Paying no mind to the girl’s muttering, Mikasa quietly took a seat next to her. Sasha didn’t move, even as her stomach grumbled and ached; she obviously hadn’t noticed the bright red object in Mikasa’s hand. This just made it all the more amusing to watch her head jerk back up in surprise at the sound of something tearing apart with a wet crack.

“Here…” the black haired woman placed half of a pomegranate in Sasha’s hand.

She stared down at the fruit, dumbfounded.

“How did you get this?!” Sasha clutched it to her chest, looking at Mikasa in awe. Surely she had gone to great lengths to obtain something so precious! What skill, what utter cunning it must have taken to sneak it out of the kitchen! Or maybe she bribed them? Perhaps there was coercion was involved?  Whatever the case, Mikasa, her savior, her guardian angel! Had to have taken such risk to-

“I _asked_ for it, Sasha.” Her hero wore a bemused little smile. Funny, how the kitchen staff could be so generous to those who had no history of sneaking food from them, or trying to pick the storage room locks.

Still, Mikasa was no less of an angel in her eyes, even if no glorious act of bravery had been involved. After all, this was the woman who never called her Potato Girl. The one who always helped her clean and bandage any scrapes and cuts that accumulated during their training. The one whose bed was always missing a few blankets in the morning, when Sasha would shiver and whimper in her sleep during the cold winter months. And, of course, the one who brought her food in her time of need.

Unfortunately, the beautiful blessing in her hands quickly became more of a frustration than anything. While trying to peel off the thin membrane, chunks of seeds would come with it only to fall into the grass. When she tried to pick out a seed, her clumsy fingers would crush it. If she tried to break the fruit into smaller, more manageable chunks, whole clusters of seeds would burst and leave her covered in bright red splatters of juice.

Finally, Mikasa put an end to the bloodbath with a quiet but firm “Sasha.”

Sasha ceased her attempts to best the fruit and spared a glance at the other woman. Parts of her uniform, as well as her face, were covered in flecks of red – there were particularly big splashes on her cheek that had begun to run down her face and dribble off of her chin.

“Sorry!” The brunette couldn’t help but laugh, clapping a messy hand over her mouth. She didn’t seem angry, at least.

“Let’s try something else…” Mikasa made no further comment on the mess Sasha had made of them, instead turning her attention towards the half of fruit in her own hands. She easily plucked some seeds from the core, then brought one up to press to Sasha’s lips. They parted slightly as a surprised Sasha tried to speak, but Mikasa simply took the opportunity to prod the seed into her mouth. Whatever it was she’d intended to say was forgotten. Anything that wasn’t Mikasa delicately placing little red seeds against her lips was suddenly completely unimportant. She closed her eyes and let herself be fed.

Sasha wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what. Wanted Mikasa to say something, but still, she didn’t know what it was she wanted to hear. Most of all, she just wanted to feel her fingers against her lips, so much that it was becoming something of a disappointment every time they’d retreat to pick more seeds. She wondered if Mikasa noticed she was blushing. With how hot her face felt, she knew it must have been absolutely red. In turn, Mikasa wondered if Sasha noticed the way she’d become clumsy in her seed picking – the tips of her fingers were stained and wet, and red liquid slowly trickled from the fruit to pool in her palm.

When Sasha felt the woman’s fingers lingering on her lower lip, she couldn’t help herself. She reached up to take Mikasa’s hand in her own, holding it in place while she slowly kissed each juice-stained fingertip…but soon, a wave of embarrassment overwhelmed her, and she dropped the hand.

“Uh…s-sorry, your fingers were just getting so messy, and-”

Sasha was cut off by a hand on her shoulder, and suddenly she found herself on her back and with Mikasa leaning over her. She also became aware of a growing damp spot on her blouse, beneath the woman’s palm…that would surely leave a stain, but she was more concerned about the way Mikasa was peering down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“You missed a spot.” Mikasa didn’t need to say anything more as she prodded at Sasha’s lips, which happily granted access. She took the hand again, shaking nervously as she looked up at Mikasa and tentatively licked at fingertips. In response, they were shoved deeper into her mouth and pressed against her tongue – Sasha flinched a bit, but the further instruction made her grip more confident. The pair of fingers in her mouth curled along her tongue, leaving slight trails of sweetness behind them.

Sasha alternated between lapping gently and sucking at Mikasa’s fingers, trapping them firmly between her tongue and the roof of her mouth as she did so, now more eager to taste her skin than the juice that coated it. The flavor was less inviting than that of the fruit. She tasted faintly of sweat and dirt and cheap soap, but Sasha didn’t care because it was Mikasa, it was Mikasa that was hovering over her and pushing her fingers into her mouth and she could have stayed like that forever if those fingers hadn’t pulled themselves away.

At first, she was disappointed. She licked her lips and stared up at Mikasa’s face, still looking down at her…and that’s when the red splatters on her cheek, her chin, her collarbone all caught Sasha’s eye. Slowly, she started to prop herself up on her elbows. She was waiting for Mikasa to say something, to do something, but of course she wouldn’t, so Sasha leaned up further, clumsily pressing a kiss to her cheek.  Facing no objections, she kissed her again, and then again between trying to shift herself up onto her knees, grateful for the way Mikasa held her waist and helped pull her up.

Sasha’s heart raced as she leaned in again, kissing lower down Mikasa’s cheek, only to pause upon spotting just a tiny bit of red on her lower lip. She eyed it intently, nervously, before kissing it as well. Mikasa returned the gesture only briefly before tilting her head back a bit and pushing Sasha’s face down into her neck. There, she peppered more tiny kisses down the trickle of red before licking up Mikasa’s throat and pecking at the flecks that remained under her chin. Then her hands crept up slowly to the collar of her shirt, tugging at it to reveal the rest of the stain that had dribbled down to her chest.

“I wonder if you made this mess on purpose…” There was the faintest hint of a smile on Mikasa’s lips. Her words made Sasha draw back.

“Wha-? No! I wouldn’t do that!” She blurted out in defense, flinching at her own volume – the last thing she needed was for someone to hear her and come find them. Again, Mikasa put a hand to the back of her head and pulled her face back down.

“Hush. I’m only teasing.” Her other hand reached for one of Sasha’s and placed it on her waist, whispering, “now keep going.”

That was all the encouragement Sasha needed. She kissed and ran her tongue along the red trail on Mikasa’s chest until there was nothing left…but the other trainee didn’t seem to mind that she began planting extra kisses back up to her collarbone. An experimental flick of her tongue against Mikasa’s throat made the woman tilt her head back further, and there were no protests as Sasha’s hand cautiously slid down her waist only to creep back up beneath her shirt. It trembled slightly on its way up towards her chest, running over toned muscles and the occasional rough skin of a scrape or cut that hadn’t completely healed. Her other hand came up as well, clumsily pushing up Mikasa’s bra.

Sasha looked nervously over Mikasa’s shoulder, trying to peek through the bushes at the training grounds. They were empty, fortunately, but worries of being discovered still ran through her mind as she glanced her fingers over the woman’s breasts. Those thoughts were interrupted when Mikasa leaned into her, resting her hands on Sasha’s thighs and letting her eyelids slowly close. Her mouth hung open just a bit, and Sasha could just barely hear the breath rush past her lips while she fondled her chest with greater enthusiasm. Staring at that beautiful face, she chewed on her lower lip and felt her stomach tie itself in knots.

“You’re…you’re really pretty, Mikasa…” the words tumbled out of her mouth with little eloquence.

“Am I?” Mikasa breathed the question into Sasha’s ear with a coy smile, pulling herself closer still by wrapping an arm around the brunette’s shoulders.

“You are!” Sasha nodded eagerly, dragging her hands down the muscled body, down her waist and stomach, where Mikasa caught one of her wrists and tugged it down towards her belt. The hand stayed frozen there for a moment, with Sasha looking shyly from it to Mikasa’s face. She was still in mild disbelief over the whole situation – still concerned for what might happen if they were caught…but whatever sense of reason she had left was gone once the woman locked both arms around her and murmured, “do go on.”

Sasha couldn’t figure out what to say as she slipped her hand down Mikasa’s pants and wriggled her way into her underwear until her fingers pressed into hot, wet skin. Her cheeks burned with a bright red blush as she touched and prodded uncertainly, still trying to find her words. “Um…well,” she paused when an idle stroke of her fingers made Mikasa shiver, “you’re…you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met.”

Her speech came slowly and awkwardly as she tried to divide her attention between speaking and exploring the body now straddling her knee. “And you’re so strong…” she mumbled, feeling Mikasa’s arms tensing around her. As she rubbed a bit faster, harder between her legs, Sasha wasn’t sure the woman was still paying any attention to her. She had no more coy little quips to offer, at any rate. Instead, she sighed into Sasha’s neck and rocked her body gently into the movements of her fingers.

 “Is that all?” The top trainee teased, her lips brushing the other girl’s ear. A desperate whimper forced its way from Sasha’s lips as she became all too aware of a needy warmth creeping up her body. She probed yet more aggressively, as though seeking relief, or perhaps some kind of revenge through ravaging Mikasa’s most intimate depths. In return, Mikasa gasped softly and clung tighter still, and Sasha could only whimper again at the feeling of the woman pressing herself against her breasts.

“Well, um…I also…” she had to swallow back a nervous lump in her throat. Her train of thought was nearly lost as she struggled to split her concentration between sorting her words and pleasuring Mikasa, who was clutching fistfuls of Sasha’s shirt as she brought her hips down to grind against her fingers, effectively trapping the hand between herself and the brunette’s leg. Sasha took a deep breath, trying to keep up with the mounting rhythm of Mikasa’s movements while sputtering, “I, I really like you!”

Sasha felt a mixture of disappointment and relief when her confession received no response. Instead, Mikasa’s face fell into her shoulder as she gasped and shuddered violently…and that same moment was when Sasha’s hand began to cramp, with her whole arm pinned awkwardly between the two of them. Mikasa didn’t seem to notice, bucking hard against the motionless fingers, and Sasha almost didn’t mind the ache in her wrist as long as Mikasa kept grinding into her hand and panting against her neck. The frantic bucking was short lived, however, and subsided into slowly dragging herself along the length of Sasha’s hand, every roll of her hips punctuated by a satisfied shiver. Finally, she sighed and slumped limply into Sasha.

“Wow…” the brunette laughed in disbelief over the whole situation. It still didn’t feel real. Slowly, she pulled her arm out from between the two of them and began flexing her throbbing hand, but froze at the sight of her thoroughly wetted fingers. She supposed it felt a _bit_ more real as she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, seemingly dumbfounded by the slick texture. When she noticed Mikasa also eyeing the hand, Sasha quickly wiped it on the grass, embarrassed to be caught marveling over such a thing…

“Sorry…” Mikasa sat up to brush her hair back, looking nonchalant as ever. “I didn’t catch that last bit. What did you say?”

Sasha felt her chest tighten up, unable to tell if Mikasa was just teasing her again. Why did she always have to be so impossible to read? What little courage she’d gathered suddenly fell to pieces, and she shook her head, laughing. “Oh, it was nothing…I mean, nothing important. I forgot it already!”

For a long while, Mikasa simply stared in silence, her expression unchanged. Sasha’s eyes darted nervously from the woman’s face and then down to her lap, wondering if she was going to get away with such a lackluster attempt to avoid the subject.

“That’s too bad…” Mikasa leaned forward, hovering close to Sasha’s lips, “I would have liked to hear it.” She ran a hand up Sasha’s thigh, and the flustered girl could only stay frozen in place. There was the slightest little smile on her face as she watched her lips tremble nervously, torn between speaking and leaning in to kiss her…so it came as a surprise to Mikasa, when she felt her hand being tugged ever so gently into Sasha’s lap while the girl chewed on her lip, pleading with her eyes. Before she could oblige, she heard trainees beginning to file out of the mess hall. Lunch break was nearly over.

Sasha quickly released the hand and scooted out from beneath Mikasa, clearing her throat and gesturing towards the training grounds, “I guess we should, uh. Get going.”

The top trainee nodded and pushed herself up onto her feet to readjust her uniform. While buttoning up her shirt, she noticed Sasha plucking at her jacket…there was a dark stain on its shoulder. She’d surely get yet another chewing out from Shadis, showing up with her uniform in such a state. Pitying her, Mikasa motioned for Sasha to remove it.

“I wonder how many more lunches this will cost me…” Sasha tried to force a laugh, holding it at arm’s length to examine it. Without a word, Mikasa shrugged off her own jacket and offered it to her, plucking the stained article from her hands in the process. The brunette’s eyes widened, watching Mikasa slip into her uniform. It was a tad big for her, and hers would surely be a little small for Sasha – but a tighter fitting jacket was undoubtedly less noticeable than a large stain. “Mikasa, you don’t have to do that!”

“Don’t worry about it.” There would be no arguing with her, which she made clear by draping her jacket over Sasha’s shoulders. “The table is getting lonely without you.”

“Really?” Sasha smiled bashfully, clutching at the jacket.

“Really.” She nodded, stepping forward to put her hand on the other girl’s hip. Mikasa glanced towards the messy splotch on her shoulder and went on, “showing up to training like this, though…maybe I’ll be joining you out here again.”

“But you don’t have to-” Sasha was quickly silenced by a finger against her lips.

“I wouldn’t mind.” She smiled, squeezing Sasha’s hip and eliciting a surprised squeak, “a little more alone time sounds nice, don’t you think?”

Sasha could only nod eagerly. Suddenly, a few more skipped lunches wasn’t sounding so bad…


End file.
